My Gohan
by Maiika
Summary: A one-shot for one of DBZ's most misunderstood mother-son relationships. Inspired by a touching classic children's book.
**For Mother's Day, inspired by the classic Children's book, Love You Forever by Robert Munsch. Yeah. I got sappy.**

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 **Age 757**

With ebony bangs brushing over her dark eyes full of warmth and happiness, a mother held her newborn baby. A smile eased across her lips as a smaller pair of equally dark, curious eyes stared back at her. When she began humming and rocking the baby, a soft, furry tail coiled around her wrist. Her eyes creased as her tight-lipped smile grew.

 _As long as I'm living, my Gohan you'll be._

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 **Age 760**

That baby grew until he was a little boy. His appetite, in combination with his father's, nearly kept his mother cooking day and night. He had an abundance of energy unlike any other child his age. Often, he and his father could be sneaky together, causing mischief around the house. Sometimes his mother would say, "my family is driving me crazy!"

But at night time, when both father and son slept with identical, soft snores, she'd sneak out of her room, crawl across the child's floor, and look up over the side of his bed; if he was really asleep she would pick up that three-year-old boy and rock him in her arms, breathing in his childish scent and pressing her fair cheek against his soft skin and silky black hair.

 _As long as I'm living, my Gohan you'll be._

* * *

 **Age 762**

Her family had been taken from her. For the longest time there was no need for her to cook day and night, no energetic child driving her to exhaustion, no mischief from neither father nor son, as the five-year-old boy spent his days and nights in the wilderness, and his father was gone.

But at night time, when she was alone in her home, she would gaze out the window at the night sky, hoping he was gazing at the same sky while she thought of him. Hoping her husband was up there, looking down on them. Having faith that someday, they'd return to her safely.

 _As long as I'm living, my Gohan you'll be._

* * *

 **Age 763**

He had grown _so_ much in one year. Instead of the sweet little boy she remembered, he returned a much stronger and more strong-willed child, more like his father than ever before. He had traveled through space and fought terrifying monsters. But even in the midst of adventures, he had gone out of his way to please his mother, studying diligently while he was gone.

At night time, when that growing, learning boy was again tucked safely in his own bed, the mother would open his door, crawl across the room and peek at his angelic face. If he was really asleep, she'd pick up that strong boy and rock him back and forth, humming.

 _As long as I'm living, my Gohan you'll be._

* * *

 **Age 767**

Her little boy was not so little any more-not so normal anymore, either. He'd trained and studied in peace for years. He was determined to run off and fight, when all she wanted was for him to stay home, be safe, grow up to be a scholar like she always thought he would. But he and his father had different plans. He left for a fight that would change everything.

The night before that fateful day, when father and son were sleeping and exhausted, yet still displaying that blonde, bizarre hair, she opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor, and looked up over the side of his bed. Deciding he was really asleep, she picked up that half-Saiyan boy and rocked him, nostalgically missing the black locks that used to frame his handsome features. Still, she would always see him as that little boy.

 _As long as I'm living, my Gohan you'll be._

* * *

 **Age 774**

With his father gone, the boy had to grow quickly again, into a big, responsible brother, teenager and student. But he had strange new city friends and he started wearing the strangest clothes and he even brought a suspicious girl home. Sometimes his mother felt like she was losing her little boy.

But at night time, when both boys were asleep and the mother had gone through her loving routine with her youngest son, she'd turn to that teenage boy, making sure he was really asleep; she'd gently stroke the black hair from his restful brow, smiling fondly at how closely he resembled his father, knowing how proud his father would be, knowing how proud _she_ was.

 _As long as I'm living, my Gohan you'll be._

* * *

 **Age 778**

That teenager grew. He grew until he was grown and married. He wed that girl (who had turned out to be not so bad), leaving home to move into a home of his own.

But sometimes, though her long-missed husband was back and she had another little boy to care for, the mother still tiptoed from her room on dark nights. She would nostalgically stare out the kitchen window at the starry sky as she hoped her newlywed son was doing the same.

 _As long as I'm living, my Gohan you'll be._

* * *

 **Age 779**

With her husband and younger son filling so much of her time, the mother hardly saw her grown son enough. Then, a granddaughter was born. The son had so much to fill his life now-his friends, his career, his father, his younger brother, a father-in-law and wife and daughter of his own-but she would never forget the special bond _they_ shared.

 _As long as you're living, your mommy I'll be._

Before turning in for bed on the night of his daughter's birth, the son paused just outside his bedroom doorway. He turned and went into the room where his very new baby daughter was sleeping. He picked her up and rocked her in his arms very slowly back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Looking into the tiny pair of curious black eyes staring back at him, a smile spread across his face as he understood the cause for all the years of his mother's persistent dedication and protection.

 _As long as I'm living, my Pan you'll be._


End file.
